


Rebirth

by slytherinheadgirl777



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst and Fluff and Smut, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Eventual Smut, F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Light Dom/sub, Slow Burn, Smut
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-09-24
Updated: 2020-11-02
Packaged: 2021-03-07 20:14:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 19,163
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26633443
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/slytherinheadgirl777/pseuds/slytherinheadgirl777
Summary: When young Anastasia Inferis gets a letter from Hogwarts, her whole world is turned upside down. Confused, shy and quiet she sets off on her journey, all the while keeping her Muggle-born status in the shadows.However, what secrets should be revealed during her school years? What relationships and friendships will form? Everything is complicated and Tom Riddle being in her life inevitably leads to further chaos.
Relationships: Abraxas Malfoy/Original Female Character(s), Tom Riddle/Original Female Character(s)
Comments: 10
Kudos: 24





	1. You Choose.

As she sat on the Hogwarts Express her eyes wandered on the beautiful, green and vast lands of Scotland. Blinking rapidly, she didn’t let a moment pass her by, analysing closely the road that took her further and further away from home.  
Half an hour passed and she was still the only person in the narrow compartment on the train, listening to the ever-so-loud shouts of students outside. They remained in the corridor, greeting each other or simply waiting for the candy trolley to pass by. She didn’t want to push herself to socialise, her shy nature peaking through and overruling her want for a Chocolate Frog. Besides, she thought, there is too much house rivalry anyways. I will make friends once I’m sorted. The following thought made her heart rate speed up even faster, as she realised what was going to happen very soon. 

She learned of her nature, as it can be said, not too long ago. The letter came just before her birthday. Both her and her parents were confused, never having even heard of magic let alone an academy which specialised in its teaching. Thankfully, having sensed some unsettlement on their part, Albus Dumbledore Apparatated in their living room, hoping to clear up some questions. However his method of transfer only raised more of them.  
The meeting passed in a blur and all she could remember now was two distinct topics; the Sorting Ceremony which would be taking place upon her arrival in Hogwarts and the fact that she shouldn’t reveal of her Muggle origin. 

Suddenly, her thoughts were interrupt by the loud sound of the door being opened. She sat up, startled and stared at the people walking in, striding confidently in, without even one glance in her direction. Two boys sat in front of her, one with platinum hair, that looked so white and and icy that it made her think of the lake at her family’s summer house. The lake that would remain frozen all throughout the year, not thawing even under the violent rays of the hot sun. A true mystery. She then looked at the boy next to him, who was an opposite contrast to the first one. His raven hair was sleeked back aggressively with too much gel, making it look almost greasy.  
She tore her analysing eyes away from them as she felt someone sit right next to her, his thigh brushing up against hers, making the blush in her cheeks appear faster by the second. She didn’t dare look up at him in the state that she was in and stared simply at his hands, which seemed to be holding something blue with their slender fingers. 

As they neared Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, she liked repeating that name in her head still not believing she was a witch, the boy, who until now was deep in conversation, lightly poked her shoulder. She had been ignoring them up until now, feeling too timid to say anything. Besides she wasn’t being talked to and her sophisticated mother always taught her to only speak when spoken to. She twirled the fabric of her skirt between her index fingers, slowly looking up at the person who had just signalled for her attention. Her eyes met his ocean blue orbs and she felt as if all the air in her lungs had left her. A feeling pulled at her chest as she tried to regain control of her breathing. Having noticed a strange feeling in his chest too, the boy decided to talk as soon as possible, feeling uncomfortable at this unexpected sensation. 

“I’m Tom”, he spat out a bid too harshly, still confused by the nagging, which seemed to be his heart. “Tom Riddle”, he finished.  
She slowly nodded and held out a limp hand towards him, “I’m Anastasia Inferis”, she stuttered. She was embarrassed even further when he spoke, “that is quite a strange name”. She stared at the floor not knowing what to respond as she felt his hand snaking itself around hers, which was still being held in the air, and shaking it. “Pleasure”, he continued, “I never heard of anyone with that family name. Who are your parents?” Startled at such a direct question she didn’t know what to respond. The warning Dumbledore gave her, ringing in her ears again she simply stated, “Richard and Melissa Inferis. They are the owners of a few shops in Diagon Alley.” Tom questioningly looked over to Abraxas Malfoy, raising a brow at him. The boy quickly nodded at silent understanding between them two, find out if she is lying. 

In reality she wasn’t. After everything that happened earlier in July, her parents, being wealthy Muggles decided to buy some shops as well as restaurants in the Wizarding World. They thought it would be a smart move, considering that their daughter had to lie about her blood status due to the discrimination at Hogwarts. They introduced themselves as Italians who had recently moved to London in hopes of providing Anastasia with the best education there was to be offered. 

Tom starred at her calm expression and felt more at ease. “Which house do you want to be sorted into”, he continued his interrogation. “I don’t know”, she quietly replied. “How can you not know? Your parents surely talked about their houses, you should have an idea of where you want to be”, the attack sent chills up her spine as she looked back up to his eyes again. Thoughts racing in her head she quickly blurted out, “they both went to Beauxbatons, so I wouldn’t know.”  
A wicked smile crept up his face as he noticed her flustered behaviour, “no need to bark at me, little one. I was just being curious.” Her eyes went wide at the ridiculous pet name that she was being addressed by. Considering they were both the same age, it didn’t seem reasonable to be calling her that. “Do you want me to explain to you the different houses, little one”, he accentuated the last words tempting her further. She started at him in disbelief but nodded, curiosity taking ahold of her.

“Well there is Gryffindor, known for their strong moral compass and courage. Quite reckless in my opinion, however. Then there’s Hufflepuff, the loyal and honest but again weakened by their naive and unambitious nature. They are followed by Ravenclaw who are known for their erudite and creative character. They tend to get big in the head though, always thinking they’re better than everyone else. And lastly—”, he trailed off with a proud smile,”there is Slytherin. Ambitious, cunning, determined.” He finished his explanation now waiting for her reply. She still fuddled with her skirt and furrowed her brows, clearly thinking of what she would answer. “Slytherin sounds better than the rest, the way you put it… They have no weakness according to you. I guess I would chose Slytherin if it came down to it.” She earned a congratulation from him, “very good, little one. Very good indeed.” His eyes full of malice, he opened his hand and presented a Chocolate Frog to her. “For your correct answer”, he pressed on. Feeling that rumbling of the train had come to a halt, she took his reward with shy smile as he was standing up. Malice shot up his eyes, before turning them away from her, picking up his trunk and walking out of the compartment, followed closely by his companions. 

_______________________________________________________________________________________

Armando Dippet, led the first year students to the very front of the Great Hall. They followed behind him with eyes gleaming full of passion and excitement.  
“Dear students and teachers I am very glad to welcome everyone back to Hogwarts for yet another school year. I am standing here before you, to announce the new addition to our community”, the Headmaster spoke. “Please welcome the first year students. I am sure that every single one of you”, his eyes trailed over the group before him, “will find this new chapter of your lives to be one of the most exciting ones yet. Here you will not only learn the important practice of witchcraft and wizardry, but you will find a second home and a second family within these walls. And with that let the Sorting Ceremony begin.” 

Everyone’s eyes followed the hat that was being carefully carried by Professor Merrythought as she finally stood next to a chair, which was presented for the students to sit in one by one. “As I call on your names please step forward”, her voice rang. With her second hand she help a long piece of parchment, picking the first name on the list, “Abraxas Malfoy”. The boy was sorted into Slytherin, followed by the raven-haired boy, Reinhart Lestrange. A few more students were called upon, all leaving the chair in different directions, joining their houses’ respective tables.  
“Tom Riddle”, Anastasia tore her eyes away from the enchanted ceiling and looked at how his slender figure progress to the front. He sat down on the chair, placing the palms of his hands on his knees and smiled to the audience looking at him. His eyes met with Anastasia’s and tortured her with a wolfish grin, wanting to see her confused behaviour from their previous encounter. He couldn’t seem to explain the reason why he liked to make her feel small and nervous. 

In reality, he enjoyed control, having the lack of it his entire life at the orphanage. Gaining the respect of Abraxas and Reinhart in the first twenty minutes of their introduction didn’t prove to be hard. With a simple display of wandless magic, the boys were at his feet. Having heard of no one of such young age being able to master it so easily, fear crept up their senses. With Anastasia however, he sensed that there was more that needed to be done, for her to bow down to him. Tom was good at reading people and he knew that with the offering of a simple Chocolate Frog he was beginning to earn her trust. Even if it wasn’t trust, it was something alike to it, interest even. He watched her distracted eyes examining the room all up until his name was spoken. Suddenly, he had her undivided attention. 

The hat was placed atop his head and he heard the voice boom through the room. “Ah! What a special case you are! A special case indeed. It seems that you are destined for one house and one house only. Oh how Salazar would be proud.” The Slytherin table murmured at the mention of their founder in an unheard of way. Everyone was questioning as to why the boy was so directly related to the great wizard. “Slytherin!”, the hat cried. 

As Tom walked away with a smile on his face he was also beginning to question the hat’s words, determined to find out every single detail, keeping control in the palm of his hand. Though everyone was swarming around him with questions and introductions as he sat down at the table, Tom was looking at the chair, which was now filled by Anastasia. Her piercing cyan eyes were staring directly at her feet. Tom recognised this as an indication of her discomfort and watched silently as the top of her head was covered by the old, worn-out hat.

“Very interesting yet again. Very interesting indeed! Oh how I’m overjoyed to be sorting two students with such an impressive lineage in a row. However, I must say yours is more impressive, my apologies to Tom. You’re far more pureblooded than any of the students here, even those in Slytherin’s ranks, aren’t you? And you don’t even know!” Anastasia looked around the room as students started whispering, going by teachers. Slytherins shot bullets at her head with looks of such poison you almost flinched. “But what house would be worthy of you”, the hat continued, “I simply do not know. You’re courageous, cunning, smart and determined. You are loyal and daring, all the while having a starvation for power far more than you can imagine. You possess all of the qualities to get into any house.” The hat paused, clearly deep in thought and the room erupted once more in quiet chatter. “Well there is only one solution to this situation, if I’m being quite honest. You choose.” Anastasia’s eyes widened as she starred towards the teachers, who were sharing her expression. Having no say in the matter, they only averted their eyes, too considerate of worrying her even further. Anastasia then looked around the room and met his eyes. 

They gleamed with both curiosity and horror; it was now she, who confused Tom. Not wanting to hint at her upper hand, Tom softened his eyes just enough to leave a trace of malice peek through. Challenging her to speak her words, the boy was only answered by a wave of tingling sensations at his heart. He gripped discreetly onto his knee under the table, his knuckles turning white from squeezing the pain away.  
She still watched Tom, as if pleading him to answer for her all the while also feeling as if her chest was about the burst. He was the closest thing she had to a friend and didn’t know who else to turn to. Her nervousness caused her to yet again fumble at her clothes when suddenly she touched a hard surface through the pocket of her robes. She recognised the Chocolate Frog, the reward he gave Anastasia for her correct answer. Without a second thought, not wanting to prolong her Sorting even longer she said, “Slytherin.”


	2. Secrets Uncovered.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys!!! Just wanted to let you know that this story is also available on wattpad for easier reading. It’s called Rebirth by ImagineAFanFic! Hope you’re enjoying so far)) I’ll try to update as much as I can, that will usually be either daily or every two days.

The group of first year Slytherins left the Great Hall, accompanied by the Head Boy and Girl. Anastasia's feet slowly progressed, leading to her almost falling behind. She couldn't bare to be the centre of attention, not in this foreign place which she knew nothing about. She barely ate dinner due to the numerous stares she received as well as the fact that Tom's leg kept on brushing up against her own as they sat so closely together. Their behaviours juxtaposed so clearly; him, bathing in the attention that was addressed to him and her, crumpled and overwhelmed by it. 

Nothing seemed to calm her nerves and exhaustion was slowly seeping through her entire body. She stared at her feet and kept walking until the sudden halt everyone came to. Her body bumped into the platinum blonde's and the boy aggressively turned around. "Watch it, Inferis", he spat. Anastasia trembled with embarrassment and gave him a small nod of promise that this would not be repeated. Abraxas started to reverse back around when a strong hand snaked itself around his shoulder, stopping his actions. Tom politely smirked at her and said, "You will have to excuse Malfoy's rude behaviour." She shook her head, "It's my fault don't worry about it. I'm sorry again, Abraxas." Tom's smirk quickly faded and was replaced by a deep scowl, "remind me to never come to your rescue again, little one." With that he spun around on the balls of his feet, Malfoy mimicking his actions. 

They were standing in front of the entrance and were given further instructions; the passwords would be changed every two weeks and no outside houses were allowed to be invited in. Anastasia heard the "Juniper" being whispered, as the once empty and humid wall was now revealing a tall, heavy black door. Students excitedly progressed inside and she could now see the common room in front of her. At the bottom of the small stairs were large leather, black couches, which seemed to be perfectly new, lacking any creasing or scratches. Pillows of green velvet were placed symmetrically on each of them. They looked untouched, almost stone-like. She theorised that with the wealthy background of almost every family in her house, their entire dormitories were refurnished at the end of every year. 

Large round tables stood behind the couches, made of dark wood. Both were surrounded by eight chairs, made of the same type of material. Two bookshelves were placed on the far wall, filled with numerous objects and books. Various kinds of snake patterns could be seen in their detailing. Their top was decorated by gold vases and cylinders, which reflected vigorously the light from the green crystal chandeliers. The palette of this room was cold and unwelcoming, not being heated up even by the black marble fireplaces. 

"Welcome to the common room Slytherins. This space is given to you in order to relax between and after classes as well as to study. This room is not to be used for any other purpose, such as parties or any other misbehaving. You are expected to be in your rooms by ten pm. No one is to leave past that time, with the exclusion of visiting the infirmary of course." The Head Boy spoke confidently to them and was pleased to see everyone nod in agreement. He continued, "as it can be clearly observed, our house has been home to many generations of wealthy wizarding families. It is because of this that our house provides their students with individual rooms for each of them." Everyone began to smile and he pointed to the staircase on the far right, "Hogwarts' headmasters never agreed with this, which is why the additional rooms are concealed." The group moved after him towards the steps. "When you wish to enter you room you will say the same password as you do at the entrance, which also changes every two weeks." As soon as he spoke another "Juniper", the floor under the stairs vanished, only to reveal a prolongation of the spiral. Anastasia gasped as she admired the magic before her. "No one is to be informed about this, especially the other houses. The only people aware, are the Slytherin students and our head of house, Professor Slughorn.

"I will call the names of those, who are going downstairs. The rest will proceed to the upstairs dormitories", the Head Girl stepped in. Her purple hair glistened with pink undertones and Anastasia couldn't help but stare at how natural it looked. She had seen a big number of Muggles dye their hair, however theirs turned out so obvious and vulgar that she could never appreciate it.  
"She's an Metamorphmagus", a girl whispered next to her. She gave a smile at Anastasia's puzzled expression and carried on, "she can change her appearance whenever she wants, ranging from hair to eye colour, even height." Anastasia turned her head back to the Head Girl and examined her carefully, as if trying to figure out what else was altered in her figure. "She only changes her hair colour though", the girl said as if reading her mind, "I swear living with her is such a nightmare. It's like seeing a new person everyday." 

"You live with her?", Anastasia questioned awkwardly. "Yes, she's my sister. I'm Olivia, Olivia Hornby by the way", she extended a confident hand and Anastasia shook it. Their conversation ended when the older Hornby started reading the names out. "Reinhart Lestrange, Druella Rosier, Antonin Dolohov, Anastasia Inferis and Tom Riddle you're on the first floor downstairs. Abraxas Malfoy, Rodrick Mulciber, Olivia Hornby, Jonathan Nott you are on the floor under them." 

Anastasia followed her neighbours down the stairs behind a brunette girl, who she assumed was Druelle Rosier. Her long brown hair flowed and bounced with every step her long legs took. As they all exited onto a large floor everyone went in different directions to find the room which contained each of their belongings. Anastasia entered a cold chamber, having spotted her trunk and black owl Fastus. The bed was placed in the centre, its long, white, silky sheets flowed gracefully to reach the very floor. A soft dull light shone on it through the sizeable rectangular window located just above the bed. On either side, were small bedside tables made of the same dark wood she saw in the common room. Her eyes followed to the front of the mattress, where a small desk was pushed up against it, the chair being on the opposite side and facing the window. Directly behind the chair was a heavy-weight closet. 

She stood still in the doorway and treasured the sight before her. Suddenly, she felt a fresh breath against the skin of her neck and goosebumps started to roam her body. She didn't dare move, her black shiny shoes, frozen to the fieldstone. "I notice you have a desk in your room, little one", Tom spoke in a whisper. "You see, since I don't enjoy studying in the company of other people — far too distracting in my opinion— and don't seem to have a desk of my own. I might have to come and visit you sometime." Another wave of goosebumps shot through her, but before she could protest, he was gone. 

_______________________________________________________________________________________

That night Anastasia woke up a numerous number of times. Her body trembled with cold sweat under the heavy blanket and her head was pulsating with a painful headache. Mustering up enough strength, she put two small feet on the floor and started carefully walking out of her room and up the stairs. She wasn't aware of the exact location of the infirmary but figured that it wouldn't be too hard to find. The Hogwarts castle was impressive, intimidating even but that excited her in an unexplainable way. She wanted to solve its mysteries and puzzles. She overheard her classmate talking of the hidden corridors and of the Room of Requirement. Having an inquisitive brain, she always had to get to the bottom of everything. 

As her head started to peak through the floor of the common room, a set of voices brought her movements to a halt. Despite the fact that she was allowed to visit the medic, she couldn't help but feel culpable of being out of bed an hour this late. When she saw Abraxas' icy hair however, she calmed down, comforted by the fact that she wasn't alone. Just as she was about to walk over to ask for directions to the Healer's office, Tom's roaring voice pierced through the air, "I need to know, Malfoy! I need to know, there is some type of connection with Salazar and I." Malfoy replied quietly, looking away from Tom in embarrassment. "I understand, but I have already told you everything I know. And I know more than any person alive. The Manor is full of books about him, he was the founder of Slytherin so naturally my father made me read all of them. He said I needed to be prepared. I'm really sorry, Riddle. There is nothing I can help you with." 

Tom paced around the room in agitation, his mind flowing with different theories and explanations. The Hat wouldn't lie, if it connected him with Salazar through the words 'lineage', there must be some way to prove this. Suddenly, Tom stopped and flung his arms to fold neatly behind his back. "You're right, Malfoy. Your observation has given me a new idea. You said there is no one alive! Well we have to thank Hogwarts for being home to so many live paintings and ghosts, don't we?" His lips were upturned with a childish smile, as thrill burned through his pupils. 

When Riddle walked out the door, followed by Malfoy, Anastasia let out a shaky breath. This was definitely not a conversation that was meant to be overheard. Her eyes gave the room a quick scan and having established no further presence of other students, she quickly rushed out into the corridor. 

It took her eyes a moment to adjust to the darkness and the cold air sent shivers up her spine. Her already exhausted body didn't welcome this challenge on her senses quite well and she felt a spur of lightheadedness wash over her. Her body bent in two and she tried to stabilise herself by leaning her palm on the stone of the wall. She could feel her ragged breathing come out of her lungs in a whisper.  
As she regained control she started walking. 

She looked around, curious, and finally realised to what extent she didn't know this place. Her once confident opinion that she would find the infirmary with no problem disappeared and was now replaced by fear and confusion. The sound of her footsteps was ringing against the wall and echoed back into her ears, sending further nausea up her throat. Just as she was about to give up, turn around and head back to her dormitory she saw a shadow approaching her way. The normal reaction of weariness was not apparent in her behaviour and she actually felt relieved. She concluded that whoever it was, they could help. The figure flowed at an incredible slow rate towards her, giving her an impression that maybe it actually wasn't moving at all. After a few seconds and having battled the sick state she was in, she took the initiative of continuing down further into the corridor. 

Abraxas stood tall in front of her, surprised at their sudden meeting. The boy had deep blue bags under his crystal blue eyes, obviously exhausted from a sleepless night. "What are you doing here", he quickly muttered. It was a quiet sound, so different to his usual vibrant tone that Anastasia almost didn't hear him. "I feel very sick", she admitted, "but I don't know where to go." He rolled his eyes at her, but responded, "Madame Lavardis' office is just upstairs. Go up the stairs and turn to the right, you should find it right away. They keep the lights on at night so you shouldn't be able to miss it."  
_______________________________________________________________________________________  
After being forced to chug a disgustingly bitter liquid, Anastasia felt immensely better. She was now turning the corner of the infirmary in hopes to get some sleep in before her morning classes. She couldn't help but feel nervous at that thought. Her lack of knowledge about the wizarding world, also resulted in her never practicing magic. All the kids were far more advanced than her, knowing at least a few simple spells. She could hear them showing off in the Great Hall during dinner, one trying to upstage the other. As the spells progressed with difficulty, her face turned redder and redder with shame. She knew for certain that she would make a complete fool of herself tomorrow. 

She grabbed the wand from the pocket of her blue silk pyjama pants and ran her small fingers over it. It was the only real connection she felt to her new life, the only proof that she actually belonged here. Alder wood, dragon heartstring, eleven inches in length, she played Ollivander's words back in her head. She watched as he bended the wand, before declaring of its slightly springy flexibility. He was so professional, so technical about his wands, describing them as a person would describe someone's facial characteristics. It was as if they were his oldest of friends and when he brought them to his ear to listen to their whispers, they would talk to him about their shared lovely memories, which would bring a smile on his face.  
The rush she felt when she first held the long slick brown wand in her hand was indescribable. She felt as if she was filled with light and warmth from her toes to the tips of fingers. Her heart rate increased and when she flicked it with a courageous manoeuvre, a halo literally appeared around her fluffed out baby hairs. When she handed it back to the old man, still in a euphoric state she didn't miss his baffled expression. 

Too wrapped up in her daydream, Anastasia almost didn't notice two figures standing at the bottom of the staircase. She instinctively hid behind the corner, keeping her limbs close together, trying to make herself smaller. "Please Baron, sir, I need your help", she heard Tom whisper. "Don't 'sir' me, young man. I am not a gossip and would never disgrace myself enough to stoop to that level." Tom knew that by nature the Bloody Baron was never social and liked to keep to himself, a trait the two of them shared. He would always hear students complaining about his arrogance and rude behaviour and he knew that getting something out of the ghost would prove to be extremely difficult. However, he had no other choice. The Bloody Baron was the Slytherin house ghost and would know everything to answer the boy's numerous questions. "Please, you must descendant my need to know. The Hat said I was his predecessor in a way, I need to know what it means, I need to know how I can prove it", he tried explaining. "Your incessant curiosity is not my problem, boy. Besides I don't know much about Salazar. The man kept very much to himself and even if some poor bloke bore him a child, I wouldn't know much. It happened outside these castle walls, meaning that I wouldn't have been a first hand witness." 

Tom tried to mimic a pleading expression he saw many children put on when they needed something, and was satisfied when the ghost carried on. "I'll tell you this; before he left Salazar was very unhappy. Godric, Helga and Rowena were always such patriots for the Muggle-born witches and wizards, they believed that anyone was worthy of studying magic no matter their blood status. He was furious and didn't want to be a part of something so, in his opinion, vile. Magic was supposed to be selective and only given and taught to the worthy. He couldn't bear to stay here... he wanted revenge. Revenge on the co-founders. That is why according to rumour, he created a chamber. The Chamber of Secrets, they called it. Inside the chamber was a curse, a monster so deadly with the sole purpose of purging the school of the shameful non-magic kids. It is said that only his heir would be able to finish what he started and open this chamber back up." When he finished, Tom's head was already buzzing with wildness. "However, it has sadly not been found. They searched the school for years on end, no such chamber was discovered." With that the Baron floated away, and the boy stood alone, the gears in his head already set in motion. 

Anastasia was still in hiding, her head pressed tightly against the cold wall. Her hand was covering her mouth, trying to mute the loud breathing escaping her lips. She closed her eyes shut and waited to hear Tom's fading footsteps. After what felt likes ages, she heard nothing and, despite her intuition, turned to look around the corner.  
Her eyes met with his cold ones and she could feel the bile rising up her throat. He was standing just a few steps below her now, obviously having put some silencing spell on himself to quiet his footsteps. His hands were inside his Slytherin robes and his face wore a deep scowl. He looked at her furiously, and she felt like she would melt under his burning stare. She wanted to run, escape, find shelter but her feet were glued in place. "Did mommy never teach you not to eavesdrop, Anastasia?", he said. Her whole body was now frozen as an iceberg. "I'm sorry I was just at the infirmary, and you were here and seemed to be having a conversation. I didn't want to disturb you", she carefully replied. "Well how considerate of you. Maybe next time however, you can actually use some common sense and not hide like the scared little puppy that you are! Merlin, you're so stupid! Do you even have anything inside that brain of yours?" Anastasia's eyes flashed with hurt at his cruel words but she quickly shook it off, not wanting to seem even more pathetic. 

He was now moving up the stairs towards her in a predatory manner. She instinctively grabbed the wand inside her pocket, not something which was unnoticed by Tom. He snickered and shook his head, "you really think that this is going to help you?"  
She was now backed up against the wall and his white wand was pressed against the side of her throat. She drew in sharp small breaths, her airway feeling too restricted to function properly. "Now, swear to me that whatever you heard tonight, will stay in the back of your dull little brain." He insulted her once again, however Anastasia could hear clearly the desperation in his voice. Whatever information she heard was something important to him, something he didn't want other people knowing. His eyes darted between hers, searching for any sign of protest. Tom was displeased when he saw something that resembled confidence literally materialise in her shinning green pools. "Or what, Riddle? What will you do", she tempted. He stepped away from her and smiled viscously, "I guess you'll have to wait and see."


	3. A Game for Two.

As fifth year started, Hogwarts was filled with stressed out students. The libraries’, common rooms’ and Great Hall’s tables were crushed by the amount of books and papers. Everyone was studying intensively for their O.W.Ls, not letting a moment slip them by. Green, blue, yellow and red mixed together, overlooking rivalry, overlooking each other’s differences, bonded by one common goal; getting Os in all their subjects. Anastasia knew however, that it was all too foolish. To think that she could even pass would be a strong over-exaggeration. She knew the subjects, she was excellent on paper but nonetheless the practical part seemed to be challenging to master. 

“It will be fine”, Olivia squeezed her shoulder in reassurance, reading the worry painted across Anastasia’s face. Everyone realised that she was struggling in her classes, it was a well known fact. However, no one could understand why her magic wasn’t working. It was hard to explain why the girl everyone copied of off for perfect answers, could not perform even a simple levitation charm. Dumbledore took notice as well and showed far more interest in her struggles than any other teacher. He had become her protector over the years and kept her from expulsion. Teachers were aware that she was Muggle-born and assumed that maybe she wasn’t a witch after all. Maybe she was just a bookworm, cursed only to absorb the information of the Wizarding world, but never able to become part of it. “But the wand chose her, Armando. She wouldn’t have gotten a wand had she not possessed some magical qualities. You heard Ollivander say it himself”, Dumbledore had repeated these words for the past five years to the headmaster. 

“I don’t think so, Olivia”, Anastasia finally replied, “there are so many practical tests. I’m fine with most subject like Potions and Herbology obviously, but what about DADA and Transfiguration where I actually need to use a wand. You know that I need to pass all of my exams if I want to continue studying here next year.” Her friend stared at her, but didn’t seem to find an appropriate answer. She sighed and shook her head, “you will be okay, I just know it. Besides, it’s so many months away, you still have time!”   
They sat at the Slytherin table, engulfed in all the rich odours coming from the food. While Olivia, Abraxas, and the rest of the group were savagely eating, Anastasia couldn't help but feel sick to the stomach. Everyone was telling her that it would be fine, that she will pass another year without doing any magic.

“My love, you’ll be okay. My father told me that a lot of students didn't pass during his fifth year, but you know in our world we can always make arrangements. I am sure that the headmaster wouldn't mind a little extra cash. The school is always struggling, they need money. You staying wouldn’t cause any disruption, besides you’re a smart witch! They have no good reason to expel you.” Bile rose up her throat and she plastered on a perfect smile for him. “Of course, darling. I’m sure they’ll overlook the fact that I’m a witch who can’t do witchcraft.” Abraxas didn’t notice the poisonous sarcasm that was directed at him and continued eating. 

This has gone too far, she thought. What was I thinking! 

_______________________________________________________________________________________

Anastasia watched the light slowly disappear from her bed. The once bright and shining window was now filled with darkness and small speckles of stars, announcing nightfall. She stood up from her desk and started walking towards the Quidditch field.   
This was a nightly routine she’s developed ever since her first year, when she first learnt of her inability to do magic. Too embarrassed of someone walking into her room while she was practicing, she snuck out during dinnertime and spent several hours outside. Practice makes perfect, her mother once said. And that’s what she was doing, practicing over and over again, hoping that some evening she would come back to the Slytherin common room finally a full witch. 

Her footsteps were muted by the soft grass, as she finally stood in the middle of the field. The silence welcomed her back and enveloped her in a gentle embrace and she felt at peace. She stood in the darkness for a moment, closing her eyes and breathing in the scent of the nearby forest. The fresh air played with her hair, picking it up in its soft blow and making it dance. A smile crept up her lips subconsciously and she let out a long calm exhale.   
It was in moments like these that she felt like she could do the impossible. In moments when she could feel a complete disconnection to the real world, grasping nature so fully. She heard the rustling of leaves being blown away in the breeze, heard the wings of a nightbird flying over her head, heard the beat of the hooves from the centaurs hunting in the Dark Forrest. She tasted the dew beginning to form on the tips of grass and felt the air take shape around her fingers. Her powers seemed so heightened, so intense, almost supernatural. 

She broke away from her trance and picked up her wand a “Lumos” escaping her mouth. She stared at the wand with a burning look. Her eyebrows furrowed, trying to distinguish even the slightest bit of light eluding from it. “Lumos”, she repeated and nothing happened once again. She tried to keep her composure but felt red anger creeping up her neck. She spun the wood in her trembling fingers speaking the incantation afresh. When nothing worked, she started pacing in diagonal lines, back and forth, arms at her sides and fingernails digging into her hips. She tried the spell over and over again but nothing seemed to work. She was now frantic, furiously stomping her foot against the ground. Her body fell on her knees in exhaustion and she pressed her palms on her eyes, rubbing in circles until multicoloured dots appeared. “I said fucking Lumos”, she screamed projecting her hand in a straight line, the furthest it could reach. 

“I don’t think the spell involved any swearing, Anastasia”. As soon as his voice reached her ears she stilled, immobile, alike to a Renaissance sculpture. She quickly retracted her outstretch hand and glued it to her side. Her index finger started to stressfully play with the nail of her thumb. She still stood facing away from him, not wanting to look him in the eyes. His presence alone was disturbing enough and she was already crippling under his searing scrutiny. He was the reason for her fake relationship, the reason for all the painfully boring conversations with Malfoy she had to endure. Over the years she developed feelings for Tom, feelings that she couldn’t fully comprehend. They kept her awake for nights, eating at her thoughts and penetrating her dreams. He was living in every fibre of her body, running through her blood and neurones in a painful electricity. Anastasia was fascinated with his intelligence, admired the way he always excelled at everything he did. However, his accomplishments made her feel even more like a failure and jealousy took ahold of her. She hated him for his perfect brain, for the way he wrote down his notes in impeccable handwriting, for the praise he received from every teacher there was.  
She wanted to see him fail, his ideal facade crumbling and pilling up at her feet in pathetic rubble. But as this obsession led nowhere and she was going mad, she had to distract herself and find something else to occupy her time. She decided that the appropriate action for a teenage girl would be to get into a relationship. 

“What do you want, Riddle”, she spat out, turning around violently and stared at him with venom in her eyes. He didn’t flinch, but just stood there composed and calm as usual. A small snicker rolled out of his ideal mouth and he shook his head. “Please don’t let me distract you, do continue”, he mocked her. He saw her eye twitch as her hand curled into a first, knuckles turning white. Her unruly long black hair trashed in the wind and hit her face in swift whips. He sensed her annoyance at his presence and knew that he had interrupted something. Something which she wanted to keep a secret, but now he knew. The thought sent chills of pleasure throughout his body and a smug smirk painted his lips. He stepped closer to her and tilted his head, further admiring the reaction he earned from her. She had now crossed her arms on her chest and tapped a foot impatiently. “Tom, could you leave, please”, she sighed. He bore into her green eyes, “I don’t think I will. Actually this is quite entertaining, watching you fail over and over again. I think I’ll stay for the show.” She looked at him in utter disbelief and felt her hatred for him flourish by the second. 

She rolled her eyes and started walking towards him, Tom froze at the distance slowly closing between them. Just as they were about to collide, Anastasia took a step to the side and passed him. She was pleased, regaining control in this situation, when she felt a hand grip into her elbow. She was thrown against Tom’s body, her head pressing into his chest, her nose tingling with the scent of his cologne. Sandalwood, tonka tree and fresh mandarin invaded her senses and she let herself close her eyes. “What are you doing”, his words were harsh and she jumped away from him a little too quickly, making a deep blush bloom at her cheeks. He let go of her elbow and glared down at her alike an eagle observing his prey. “I’m leaving, Riddle. If you won’t let me practice I might as well”, she let out in a breath. He walked around her in a slow paced circle and came to a halt just behind her. “Are you now”, he leaned in and whispered into her ear. Her head was spinning as she could feel the air of his breath hitting her and the heat emitting from his body, beginning to strangle her. 

“Show me”, he commanded 

“Show you what”, Anastasia replied her face painted with confusion, although he couldn’t see. “Show me your magic, or the lack of it should I say.” She turned around abruptly and looked daggers at him. “What games are you playing at”, she roared. He tilted his head at her once more and ran his eyes over her body, analysing. He looked at her long legs, the curves of her hips, the small outline of her elegant shoulders, the thin neck which shone with a bright red colour. She was angry, he concluded. “No games, just curiosity”, he stated but noticed a wall of suspicion hidden behind her deep orbs. He was quite surprised, so accustomed to people bending over backwards just to please him. His own body started to feel fury pulse through it, as she resisted his orders. He was in control, always. He had to be. Tom knew of his effect on girls, acknowledging his good looks. They would grin and get flustered whenever he would be around, eagerly doing anything he asked for. Their cheeks would flush with pink as he looked at them, but she blushed it was only because of embarrassment or anger. I have to change this, he thought, she will obey me. One way or another, I will have control over her. 

“Come on, Anastasia, you might as well use this opportunity. I am the star student, I can teach you things nobody else can”, he said in a deep growl. She watched as he took a step forward, her neck feeling a nudge of pain as she looked up at him. She observed his features; face as blank as it always was, insinuating no presence of emotion at all. However, somehow he let go of his composure, overwhelmed perhaps at how powerless she seemed under his stare, and she saw a glint of mischief shine through his eyes. “There is no denying that you are the best student in our class… I would be foolish to miss out on this. Please teach me, Riddle”, she laughed, not being able to say these words to him with a straight face.   
Suddenly, she felt one of his arms wrap around her waist, while the other clinched at the roots of her hair, pulling her head back. She was crushed in his deadly embrace, her body so tight to his that it seemed like they were melting into one another. Her spirit was overwhelmed by the warmth of his hips pressing harshly into her own, and her breathing silenced. As his fingers dug into the flesh of her back, her hormones overpowered her and she let out a long moan. The feeling of his his hair tickling her neck sent her over the edge and she curled her fingers around the back of his robes. His mouth pressed gently behind her ear and she swore she could feel a smile playing on his lips.   
“Beg”, he whispered, “beg me to teach you.” Without giving it a second thought she shook her head in agreement and gripped onto his clothes even stronger. “No, I want to hear you say it”, he continued and sank his nails further into her skin painfully. She opened her mouth, but no words came out. She shut her eyes, feeling her legs giving away from the butterflies she sensed at her very core. His arms tightened their clasp around her, as he felt this happen. He bucked his hips forward, burrowing them into her, knowing this would give him the answer he needed. “Please”, she finally croaked losing control of herself altogether, “please, Tom.” 

Without warning he let her go and she fell on the humid grass, her knees hitting it with an agonising thud. “I will see you on Monday then”, she looked up at him in defeat as he spoke. A triumphant smirk played on his lips and he walked away, keeping a mental image of her, so pathetic.  
Her hand travelled to where his hand been just a few moments ago and she pulled at her hair in frustration. She pressed her legs together, trying to relieve herself some of pressure that built up between them and let out a sigh. What the hell just happened.


	4. The Dream.

_Tom’s arms enveloped her, she felt so crushed, so breathless under him. The warmth emitting from his body burned her skin harshly. He slipped a hand under her head, cupping it and gently drawing circles with his thumb. She admired his perfectly gelled dark curls, his flawless porcelain skin, his deep eyes, which burned with desire. As he lowered himself, leaning in for a kiss, she stared at his full pink lips. His tongue sensually swiped against his lower lip before guiding her face towards him with a strong harsh movement. Their lips crashed onto one another’s, and Anastasia’s feet gave out under her. She wrapped her hands around his neck and pressed her hips into him, letting out a moan. His hand found the opening of her robes and slipped under them, slowly tracing up her inner thigh with rough fingertips. She whimpered into his mouth, as she felt him tugging her underwear to the side, leaving her exposed and ready. He pulled away and looked into her very soul with his typical burning gaze. “Beg”, he spat._

Anastasia shot up out of bed at an inhuman speed. She took in a long sharp inhale, having the impression as though she hadn’t been breathing for the past few minutes. Her hand rose up to her chest and she rested it there, while trying to regain her composure. She looked around her room and noticed the bright daylight shining through the window. Sneaking a quick glance to the nightstand, where her clock rested, she confirmed her suspicions of being late. Her dampened pyjama bottoms quickly fell to the floor, followed by her shirt and she ran to her closet to put on her uniform. When she slipped her arms though her robes, a flashback from her dream clouded her vision. Tom’s hands on her body, her ragged breathing, the way he made her feel. She vigorously shook her head and pushed it away. After quickly brushing her teeth and passing a comb through her long locks, she was out of her room. 

When she stepped into the long corridor, her feet carried her at a quick pace across the school, in hopes of reaching her Potions lesson in time. She had already missed her two morning classes, meaning that if she didn’t make it on time, the day would flow straight into lunch time. Knowing the looks she would get if the first time everyone saw her would be in the Great Hall, Anastasia sped up, turning a corner. She flew into someone, knocking their books out of their hands. She didn’t miss a second to quickly bend down and pick everything up.   
“I’m so sorry, Professor Dumbledore, I didn’t see you”, she exclaimed apologetically, looking up at him. When she rejoined him a few seconds later, Dumbledore gave her a knowing smile.

“Of course you didn’t, my dear. I think hardly anyone would’ve, running at the speed that you were.” She gave him an embarrassed look and rubbed the back of her neck. “No matter”, he continued, “it’s actually a fortunate coincidence. I was looking for you either way.” 

“Oh, Professor, I know! I don’t know what has gotten into me, I’ve never overslept before. I am truly sorry.” 

“How strange, did your roommates not care to wake you up”, he questioned raising a messy silver brow at her. Her eyebrows furrowed in confusion, as she didn’t have any roommates. Understanding quickly that most of the faculty wasn’t aware of the dormitory arrangement in the Slytherin house she carefully picked her answer. 

“Well you know us Slytherins, competitive as ever and what better way to take care of competition than like this.” She let out a brief fake laugh and looked up hopefully at Dumbledore. The old man nodded an “indeed”, fighting a smile creeping up his lips. He decided not to acknowledge her lie, realising that him knowing the truth would get her in trouble with her housemates. 

“However”, he shook a skinny finger at her, “that it not the reason I have come to speak with you. As you know the O.W.Ls are slowly approaching and I am truly worried for you. I know that I have always reassured you in terms of your powers but I believe that these circumstances are quite different. I assumed that you would be able to perform magic by this age but, as we both know, I was wrong. It is crucial that you pass the written as well as the practical tests if you are to continue your studies at Hogwarts.” Anastasia’s face fell at his words, feeling anxiety creeping into her head. She knew this, nothing he was telling her was new. Nonetheless, hearing Dumbledore saying this, a man who has always encouraged her, was really troubling. She felt panic in that instant and the professor sensed it.   
“Do not worry, my child. I didn’t say this to bring you any trouble. I would like to offer you some help, in case you do not have any from your peers’ side.” 

A wave of relief hit her and she calmed herself down. She needed his guidance, as her own daily practice has not been leading to any progress. She remembered her frustration on the Quidditch field, proof that self-teaching had failed her yet again. When episodes of Tom’s interruption clouded her thoughts, she clenched her fists at her side. 

“It would be lovely of you, Professor, thank you so much. Though I must tell you, someone who I never imagined offered me some tutoring too”, she replied after an instant. 

“Oh how, wonderful! Might I ask who?”

“Tom Riddle, sir.”

Dumbledore’s previously beaming expression changed and Anastasia saw a flash of concern in his eyes. The professor never trusted Tom, hesitant of his nature; always power hungry, playing the role of a puppeteer with students and teachers. How they loved his charming facade, how fascinated they were by his perfect exterior. Slughorn especially took a liking to the boy, putting him up on a pedestal like a god, not realising the way Riddle manipulated him. Albus knew that behind everything Tom did, was a hidden reason, which benefitted him in some way or another. He couldn’t tell Anastasia this, he couldn’t interfere, it wasn’t his place to do so. 

“That is interesting indeed”, he simply responded. It was his turn to fake a smile to the girl in front of him. “Well, I believe that you would need more than one person at your disposal in order to catch up for the exams. Please let me know if you need my assistance either way.” With these words, he hugged his books tightly and walked away giving Anastasia a gracious grin. 

_______________________________________________________________________________________

Anastasia wandered into the common room, exhausted after her day of lessons. Although, she did miss half of them due to the late start to her day, she felt overwhelmed by the amount of studying she just did at the library. After her sudden meeting with the Transfiguration professor she couldn’t help but worry all day long. During Herbology and DADA she could not stop replaying his words to her, “it is crucial that you pass.” Indeed it was, she had nowhere else to go. Of course there was always the possibility of working for her father’s business or even continue her studies, but in the normal world. However, that idea seemed so absurd, nothing would be able to fill that void if she was ever expelled from Hogwarts, torn away from magic altogether. 

She sunk into the cushion of the large black couch, tilting her head back to rest against the cold leather. She contemplated the high ceiling, looking at the grey colour of its stone. The quiet of the room brought her unimaginable peace, and she breathed in a big gulp of air. The room smelt strongly of larix decidua, mixed in with a drop of freshly cut grass and pine. She closed her eyes and dreamed of herself being in a deep forest, in the dark at night, alone with her thoughts and surrounded by the beauty of nature. She stayed that way for what felt like ages and realised that if this went on any longer, she would fall asleep. Dreading being woken up by the students coming back from dinner, she stood up and walked to her room. 

She progressed down the stairs while looking at her feet, exhaustion stirring in every cell of her body. She pressed her hand on the slick wood of her door and pushed it open. Taking a lazy turn to close it behind her, she failed to notice that she was not alone. As soon as she faced her bed, she noticed a long dark figure standing over the clothes she had dropped on the floor this morning. Tom whirled around on the balls of his feet, with an unexplainable amused expression on his face. She felt all air being knocked out of her lungs, both by the shock and by the recollection of her dream. She hadn’t seen him all day long, missing her Tranfiguration and Potions lesson with him in the morning. During lunch time he always disappeared to the library and dove into his studies. His absence in DADA was justified by Professor Merrythought by the mere fact that he was ahead of the syllabus and had been excused.   
But now, being face to face with him, she had no choice but to remember the way she had imagined him. Her subconscious attraction to him overruled her common sense and showed itself in such a sexual manner. She blushed at the thought and averted her eyes from him in embarrassment, but also due to the fact that she couldn’t help but feel a trail of tingling travel down her body to stop at her lower abdomen.

“What are you doing here, Riddle”, she snapped at him, blaming him for her undesired arousal. 

Tom let out a sigh of frustration and rolled his eyes. His expression remained blank, always composed, always emotionless. He bore cooly into her eyes before speaking, “today is Monday, Anastasia. Have you forgotten of my kind gesture?” She did indeed forget but tried to play it off, not wanting to look stupid in front of ‘Mister Perfect’. 

“No, I meant what are you doing in my room, Tom.” 

“As we didn’t set an actual location, I knew I would find you here”, he stated calmly. He was starting to get bored with this conversation. He was doing her a favour, wasting his free time on her for god knows what reason. _Ah yes,_ Tom remember, _the sole reason of breaking her, making her his puppet like everyone else, being in control of her._ His obsession with this task was however unexplainable. He was obviously a control freak, getting pleasure from the power he possessed over every single detail of his life. However, even he had to admit that this was out of character for him, to seek out a person for that mere fact of tearing them apart. _Oh but the gratification I will get from this,_ he thought. 

She hummed and went past him in the direction of her desk to set down her books. After neatly organising everything, she looked back at him. He was now bending gracefully down over her pyjama and grinning wickedly. Before Anastasia had time to process it all, he picked up her bottoms and stared at her with an evil darkness pooling in the back of his eyes. Realisation hit her, and she practically ran up to him to retrieve her belongings. He grabbed her wrist and pushed her aside before letting go. She rubbed at her now bruising arm and flinched in pain. 

“Would you like to tell me what, or may I say, who you were dreaming about, little one”, Tom spoke to her horror. She tried to make a move on him once again, but he grabbed her wrist anew but this time held on. His cold fingers dug into her flesh and she winced in pain. 

“Answer me when I speak to you, Anastasia.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about”, she lied. 

“Really”, he said while turning her pants inside out revealing the glistening liquid, “I think you and I both know exactly what happened here. Now tell me.” His eyes darkened further, with curiosity and something Anastasia couldn’t quite decipher. 

“It’s none of your business, you fucking twat”, she yelled and jerked her pyjama out of his hands with her free wrist. Embarrassment was replaced by hate and it rose up in bile up her throat as she glared at him.

He let out a chuckle before grabbing her neck with a deathly grip. He pushed her into the hard surface of the closet and pain spread sharply through her body. His face was mere inches from hers and she looked into his ocean blue eyes, noticing the specks of black running through his irises. He tightened his hold on her neck, noticing her gawking and uncomfortable by their proximity. He was pleased when he earned a muffled cough from her. Her eyes went wide and she started turning slightly blue, from the lack of oxygen passing to her lungs. Tom unclenched his hand only just enough to let her breathe and slammed the wrist which he had still ahold of into the space right next to her head. She flinched at both the unpredictable action and the agony that she felt. 

“Don’t ever talk to me like that, you disgrace of a witch”, he spat, his peppermint breath hitting her right in the face. “Now”, her continued, “answer me.” She felt scared but didn’t dare answer him, giving into his games. He leaned in over to her side, stopping only millimetres away from her ear. “Go on, little one, you can tell me. I already know for a fact that it wasn’t that dimwit boyfriend of yours who made you that wet.” Anastasia cringed at the dirty words, throwing her head back gently, trying to put some distance between them. His thumb made circles on her throat, sending a wave of goosebumps down her back. “He could never could he, knowing the fact that you despise him. He doesn’t arouse you, not like this”, he looked down at the fabric in her hand, “this was someone else.” 

“How do you know that”, she retorted, having regained her ability to speak after hearing these words. 

“You will come to realise that I know everything, little one.”

She hid a snicker, “not this though.” It was her turn to shoot her eyes down to the pyjama pants. 

He let her go instantly and walked to her desk, turning the chair slightly to face her. He took a seat on the red cushion and threw his ankle over his knee, resting one of his arms on the table. He watched her as she lightly rubbed her pained neck. He was pleased with himself, not feeling guilt even as the imprint of his hand bruised on her. 

“Not this indeed”, he spoke.


	5. Saw the Light.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi guys, hope you are enjoying the story. Please do leave comments, I would really appreciate some constructive criticism :)  
> Hope you like this chapter!

Tom sat perfectly still on the chair, resembling a statue. His mind was flooded with different theories, different scenarios. Who was the girl dreaming about with such passion? He was never a sexual person, finding it all a distraction to his success. He had been with a number of girls, which were practically throwing themselves at him. There was no game, no chase, just a simple transaction between two people. He was just giving into his needs for a moment and once satisfied, he moved on without a second thought. He understood that it was a mere aspect of human nature, something they were biologically destined to do. However at this very moment he found himself intrigued in it, as he had never had a dream of that sort. Was it a normal occurrence in people’s lives? Or would you have to be deeply attracted to a person for them to consume your subconscious? He needed to know everything, as usual, and for that the identity of her secret crush had to be uncovered. 

Tom knew right away that it wasn’t Abraxas. He saw the way she looked at him, rolled her eyes at everything he said. Malfoy’s snobbish remarks, which were always enjoyed by his pureblood friend group, brought Anastasia’s blood to a boil. Tom saw her uneasiness, which she tried to suppress at all the muggle jokes being made at the breakfast table. The only explanation he found for this attitude was the fact that she too, was muggle-born. Although it couldn’t be specifically proven as her posture, manners and demeanour was alike to a witch’s from the high society. It was further showcased by her expensive clothing, which was ironed and neat to perfection. Tom despised her, knowing her lack of magic and seeing that she continuously got pushed through into the next year with the help of Dumbledore. She was unworthy, but even he admired the way she behaved in public. 

“Tom, please leave,” she finally spoke after regaining her composure. 

“But darling, we haven’t even gotten to the fun part yet”, he replied. Without consent her mind sent her into a day dream of his hands on her body after these words, and she stared at him wide-eyed. “The lesson”, he added seeing the look of confusion on her face. Oh, how Tom loved torturing her, brining her unease. 

“Right”, she coughed, “should we go to the Quidditch field?” 

“Yes, I think that would be a satisfactory place to practice.” He was disgusted by the calm look settling on her face. This was supposed to be enjoyable just for one of them, him, otherwise what was the point. “Just you and I, away from the castle. No audience, no one to hear your screams when I kill you”, he continued. He was pleased by the horrified look painted across her features and laughed, standing up and walked out of her room. 

Anastasia followed quietly behind him, letting her hands hang loosely at her sides. She observed his slim tall figure, moving in an almost choreographed manner. His broad shoulders lifted rhythmically with the quiet breaths he took. His impeccably fitted robes hugged the muscle of his arms in a swift and superb way. When she looked at him, she couldn’t help but feel fascinated. He seemed so pure, so polished, his face never giving away the perfect chaos going on inside his head. No one ever seemed to even suspect the cruel schemes he had planned for the future, no one including her. She remember the way his face changed in anger back in her room, the way he let his guard down and let his restrained exterior slip away. In that moment she compared him to the Greek god of war, Ares. Tom resembled him in the way that both were masters in skilfully devising plans, succeeding in everything they do due to this. However, what set them apart was that Ares was violent, untamed and brutal on the surface. Those aspects of Tom’s were hidden deep inside him, shown only in moments of true furry. _‘Overwhelming, insatiable, destructive’,_ she repeated the words she read a couple of years ago to herself, and _‘man-slaughtering’._

They stood in the middle of the Quidditch field now, surrounded by the darkness of the night. Anastasia couldn’t help but close her eyes, as she always did, and breathing in the icy fresh air. She let her soul awaken, as she listened for the pleasant music of the forrest. Her heart skipped when she heard the hoots of the owls in the far distance, the running water of the stream, the hooves of the unicorns galloping. Tom stood mere inches from her, observing the girl’s peaceful expression. His eyes widened as he noticed a faint light emitting from her dark hair. _What the hell,_ he shook his head in disbelief. When he faced her once more, the glow was gone and she was looking directly at him in confusion.  
“Right, we should start off with Charms and build up to DADA”, he spoke ignoring her curious expression. 

She muttered a “sure” and took out her wand. Butterflies churned inside her, increasing her nervousness. Although Tom had already seen the embarrassing level she was at, she still felt ashamed to be practicing magic in front of such a skilled wizard. She straightened her shoulders and put her feet slightly apart, taking a fake confident stance.

“Let’s start with the levitation spell”, he pointed with his own wand at the fallen leaves scattered on the grass in front of them. 

“Wingardium Leviosa.”

His wrist flowed in an effortless wave motion before slicing the air downwards. The yellow shapes rose up and floated steadily at Tom’s eye level. He dropped his hand down, unsurprised at having mastered an incantation he learnt in first year. Anastasia’s gaze followed the leaves, which fell in a spiral to the ground. 

“Your turn”, stated Tom. 

Anastasia took a sharp inhale of air and mimicked Tom’s previous hand motion, all the while saying the magic words. The truth was that she’d known all the spells by heart, studying them for hours on end. The problem wasn’t with her knowledge, the problem was with her magic.  
As expected, nothing happened and the leaves remained glued to the grass. She flinched and looked over to Tom. 

“Try again”, he simply replied, not meeting her eyes. She did as she was told, but nothing happened. 

“Again.” 

She repeated her action, frustration at his dismissive behaviour growing by the second. After a dozen failed tries she threw her wand out of her hands, as if burned her with its defective nature. The wood stuck into the ground before them and they both stared at it silently. 

“Stop being a child, Anastasia. Try again”, Tom rolled his eyes. 

“No, I will not try again!”

“And why is that, little one?”

“You tell me not to act like a child and then go on to call me ‘little one’? What is the deal with that pet name anyways?”, she yelled. 

“Anastasia, try again”, he ignored her questions. 

“No, Riddle I can’t do this. This is something no one can help me with, even you. Sorry to disappoint your expectations of fixing the broken witch and being praised by all the teachers in this bloody school.” 

Tom looked at her in dislike, not feeling the tiniest bit of pity to the girl who was now sitting cross-legged on the grass. He was aware of her situation, but never considered the severity of it. This brought a satisfied smile to his lips. _This keeps getting better and better,_ he thought. 

“Bloody school, huh”, he asked. 

“What? Oh no, I love Hogwarts”, she admitted, “I just don’t think that I belong here.” She felt vulnerable speaking these words to him. He was the last person she would ever have a heart to heart conversation with. However, the moment of the day where her nightly practice would fail was when she was the most exposed, her raw emotions falling on the ear of whichever soul might be around. Usually it would be that of the birds sitting on high branches of the trees behind the field. She would scream her anger at them and in return they would nod back, with something resembling concern. She knew it was just a figment of her imagination but she didn’t care, it comforted her. 

Tom crouched down in front of her, letting his body rest on the balls of his feet. He tried to look into her green orbs, but she averted her eyes from him, finding her fingers very captivating. His annoyance at the girl grew in an instant and with a quick movement of his hand her grabbed her jaw, forcing her to watch him. His thumb dug deep into the hollows of her cheek and he could almost feel her nerves dancing under it. She sensed her eyebrows crawl up her forehead in shock. The pain in her face made her instinctively grab onto his hand with hers, trying to push it away. 

“You need to try again, Anastasia. Don’t waste my time”, he growled in her face, letting his discontent bleed through. Her eyes fluttered shut by the surprise of his displeased tone and she felt a pang of fear at her heart. Tom sensed this and remembered the frantic state she was in under his grasp back at the beginning of the evening. Pleasure shot through his body in small chills and a wicked smirk pulled at the side of his face. Suddenly, he was gifted with a brilliant idea. _Since she won’t tell me herself about the man in her dreams I will see for myself._  
He was a skilled Legilimens, a surprising fact for a person his age. However, anyone who knew Tom, would not find it that fascinating. He was so obsessed with power and what better way to seek it, than having access to a person’s most treasured possession. Their mind. 

With a quick jerk of his hand he made Anastasia peer into his eyes. He collected himself for a few seconds, before beginning. His eyes rolled back into his head, as his consciousness moved, as though through a tunnel and into the girl’s mind. He viewed the dream from the side, seeing two people approaching each other. He recognised Anastasia’s long hair, but the face of the man was hidden behind her. His excitement grew as he saw her move away, revealing a tall figure. His own eyes grew as he saw an exact copy of himself approaching her and grabbing her tiny body in his long arms. Their lips locked in a passionate kiss and he felt the girl, through her memories, thrive with bliss. He remained still as a statue, observing how his image tucked a hand under her robes, earning moans of desperation from her. He felt a strange tugging felling on his pants as he understood that he was the reason behind her arousal.

_“Beg.”_

With these words Tom shot into reality, with orbs full of surprise. His gaze met with a very angry Anastasia, who was shouting insulting words at him. He couldn’t hear her though, staying in a long trance. He felt as though he was placed underwater, muting all the sounds from his surroundings. The only thing he could distinctively pick up was the sound of his own racing heartbeat. _It was me,_ he thought to himself, _why in the hell was it me?_ Though Tom couldn’t admit it to himself, he was thrilled with this discovery. _I know how to manipulate her, I understand now._ With that sudden realisation he stood up tall, towering over her with a smug smile.

Anastasia felt extreme anger towards him. Embarrassment, hurt, furry mixed together in a powerful combination. She had never felt like this in her entire life, her skin burning over the boiling blood flowing through her system. She began seeing red through her blurry vision, making Tom’s worried look almost undetectable. “How fucking dare you violate my privacy like this, you piece of shit”, she yelled at the top of her lungs. She didn’t recognise her own voice, it seemed distorted and ranging in pitch. Tom’s hands shot up in the air, trying to calm her down instinctively. 

“Anastasia, calm down! Your skin is burning!”

She looked down at her hands, which turned pink, covered with a sever rash and already forming blisters. She ignored it, not feeling any pain, and continued howling at him in a threateningly deep voice. A swirling feeling took ahold of her insides, churning all her emotions at an incredibly fast speed. She yelled at the top of her lungs, not being able to hold in the ecstasy any longer. Suddenly she saw Tom’s eyes widen and his long finger pointed to her neck. She followed his gaze, peering down at her body and noticed her flesh being covered in thin golden strokes. A sound of crackling, resembling that of an earthquake tearing open the ground, broke the silence of the night. She embraced it, knowing deep down in her very being that she was meant to. She spread her arms and a long screeching sound escaped her throat, giving up control of her body. 

A jolt of light escaped her figure, starting at her chest. Tom watched as her whole body slowly starting emitting a pure golden shine, which illuminated the field. It mimicked the sun, engulfing all the darkness in its powerful rays. Tom took a few steps back, too overwhelmed by the mighty magic that was vibrating from her. Her whole body was now enveloped as though in a bright blanket and he couldn’t tell apart her limbs. It was as though she became part of it, blending in naturally. Tom suddenly felt light headed and sat down on the grass. He continued looking at Anastasia but the light was too much for him to handle. The last thing he saw before closing his eyes was the pair of her red eyes glaring at him through the shine.


	6. Questions.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the the lack of updates to everyone who has been keeping up with this story. I decided to keep Beauxbatons an all girls school, like it is in the movies for the purpose of this story. I know as well, that most people only watched the movies so it makes sense for that reason as well.   
> This is just a filler chpater btw, I know it may not be as good :(

_She looked down at her hands, which turned pink, covered with a sever rash and already forming blisters. She ignored it, not feeling any pain, and continued howling at him in a threateningly deep voice. A swirling feeling took ahold of her insides, churning all her emotions at an incredibly fast speed. She yelled at the top of her lungs, not being able to hold in the ecstasy any longer. Suddenly she saw Tom’s eyes widen and his long finger pointed to her neck. She followed his gaze, peering down at her body and noticed her flesh being covered in thin golden strokes. A sound of crackling, resembling that of an earthquake tearing open the ground, broke the silence of the night. She embraced it, knowing deep down in her very being that she was meant to. She spread her arms and a long screeching sound escaped her throat, giving up control of her body._

_A jolt of light escaped her figure, starting at her chest. Tom watched as her whole body slowly starting emitting a pure golden shine, which illuminated the field. It mimicked the sun, engulfing all the darkness in its powerful rays. Tom took a few steps back, too overwhelmed by the mighty magic that was vibrating from her. Her whole body was now enveloped as though in a bright blanket and he couldn’t tell apart her limbs. It was as though she became part of it, blending in naturally. Tom suddenly felt light headed and sat down on the grass. He continued looking at Anastasia but the light was too much for him to handle. The last thing he saw before closing his eyes was the pair of her red eyes glaring at him through the shine._

Tom sat quietly in Dumbledore’s office, impatiently awaiting his return. 

The Professor as well as the rest of the members of the Hogwarts staff had been frantic. He still remembered waking up in the hospital wing last night, surrounded by curious faces. His whole body ached and he couldn’t decipher his own thought, overwhelmed by the pounding feeling in his head. The moment he opened his eyes millions of questions were thrown at him, pilling up in a mountain in Tom’s mind. _What happened? What was that noise? What was that light? What caused this?_  
The boy remained silent, unable to respond due to his exhausted state, but particularly because he didn’t know the answers himself. Their words slipped passed him, he payed them no notice, staring quietly at the ceiling. However, in a few moments he saw Dumbledore’s head fill the space and Tom looked into his eyes with boredom. 

“Tom”, Dumbledore spoke. Tom fought the urge to roll his eyes at the man he had an incredible dislike for. He nodded in sign that he was nonetheless listening.

“What did you do?”, Tom’s eyes involuntarily widened in surprise, “What did you do to her, Tom?” 

When thinking back to the events of last night, the boy wasn’t surprised now. Him and Dumbledore had a very strange relationship, soaked in hatred and mistrust. It was still a mystery to Tom, why it had turned out like this.   
When the man showed up at his orphanage, he seemed so interested in helping him. He was so eager to make him feel secure, showing him that he wasn’t alone, wasn’t strange in this world. He could still now feel the warmth of the fire emitting from the wardrobe that Dumbledore’s powers engulfed in dirty yellow flames. He could still feel the embarrassment from having his theft so easily exposed. No person before him figured out that Tom ever stole anything, but then again Dumbledore was different, Dumbledore was like Tom.   
When he came to Hogwarts that autumn, he expected to see the old man greeting him with a smile, comforting him. He wished he said _Tom, it’s okay. You’re okay now. You are home._ But he never did, he never even acknowledge that the boy came to school after his visit, too busy shaking the hands of other students instead. Since then, although the boy would never admit this to himself, Tom hated Dumbledore. He knew of course that he hated him, but never realised the reason why, never realised that the only somewhat parental figure in his life abandoned him as quickly as it appeared. Abandoned him like all the others have. 

_______________________________________________________________________________________

Tom tapped his foot on the stone of the room. The Transfiguration classroom, which served Dumbledore as an office, seemed so empty and cold. Every breath the boy took resonated in an echo on the arches of the semi-oval shaped space. A pale light shone through the opaque windows, that were placed so high up that their frame almost touched the ceiling. They were lined with black metal, which looked old and showed deep white scratches, which disturbed its cool surface. They illuminated weakly the twelve tables that stood neatly in rows of three in front of the teacher’s desk. The dark brown wood was mostly matte, however some lustrous patches were shining and dancing in light. Under careful observation, their age could also be established from the mere fact that so many students came and went, that the gloss slowly eroded away. The teacher’s desk was perfect however, seated on an area which was a foot higher than the rest of the room, and treated with respect and care. Tom snickered at f Dumbledore’s method of showing his authority in the classroom. _He just had to be on a pedestal didn’t he,_ he thought. 

The Professor let out a weak cough, to draw the boy’s attention back to him. His calm eyes met Tom’s and he gave him a quick nod before starting. 

“Can you tell me what happened, please”, Dumbledore asked. Tom grew tired of this question, having heard it so many times in barely twenty four hours. 

“Of course, Professor. We were on the Quidditch field, during dinner time”, he responded in a polite manner nonetheless. “We were practicing the Levitation charm. I decided to tutor her in chronological respect of the school sylla—”

“That is not what I mean”, Dumbledore interrupted. He rarely did so, but he was becoming impatient and worried, not knowing how to help the poor girl. “There had to be something that happened, Tom. She showed such an excessive amount of magic that her body suffered third degree burns. I’ve never seen anything like it, quite frankly.” 

“I’m sorry, Professor, but there is truly nothing I can tell you. It all happened extremely fast, I hadn’t had a chance to process it myself yet.” Tom felt the need to lie, obviously concerned by Dumbledore’s reaction to the actual events of the night. Not only the fact that he used Legilimency on a fellow classmate was bad enough, but the fact that he was a Legilimens was too much. It was a power he needed to keep hidden, letting only the Knights, and now Anastasia, on his little secret. 

Dumbledore analysed Tom’s face for a moment, trying to depict any sort of dishonesty in the boy’s words. He was met with the usual emotionless and composed appearance that everyone was now used to. He let out a long sigh, considering his options. He had no reason to punish Riddle for anything, the incident was far beyond the capabilities of a sixteen year old boy. Quite frankly it was far beyond his own capabilities. Causing a witch to project every ounce of magic in her body was something unheard of. 

“Very well Tom, you may go.” 

Tom stood up, tucking in the chair under the desk after himself. He took a quick spin around and stalked towards the door, keeping a perfect posture no matter his exhaustion. His feet moved with a heavy pace and his body felt as though he was moving in slow motion.

_______________________________________________________________________________________

Abraxas was sitting in the Room of Requirement, as instructed. The usual setting was different, which seemed so strange to Malfoy. When the Knights and him entered this room on nights when their meetings took place the space was filled with a chair for each member and couch for their leader. Now however, there was only one chair placed directly facing the place where their Lord sat. Abraxas was alone tonight, which was troubling as this had never been done before. Worry was seeping though his body and a tremor took ahold of his hands. He shakily wiped the drops of sweat of his forehead and dried his palm on the side of his robes. He scrunched his nose in disgust at his own gesture, but didn’t give it another thought as the door flung open. 

Tom marched calmly into the room, his gaze fixed straight ahead, his hands folded neatly behind his back. He moved casually to the couch and stood on its left side, looking down on Malfoy. The boy bowed his head in response, leaving it bent over. He studied the circles on his fingertips, noticing the various paths the white lines drew. _What did I do? Where did I mess up so badly, that I’m in this situation right now? I shouldn’t be here, I should be with her. I should be by her bedside in the hospital._   
Meanwhile Tom finally took a seat, placing his ankle over his knee and extending both arms over the back of couch. His breathing was rhythmical, though his heart was still beating at an alarming pace since last night. He smiled at Abraxas, pleased by the scared expression of the boy in front of him. Tom extended the silence, wanting the suspense to continue, rolling his fingers on the smooth black velvet of the pillow beside him. 

“Malfoy, I have called you here today for one purpose”, Riddle began, “and one purpose only. Do not interrupt me and do not speak, until spoken to is this understood?” 

“Yes, my Lord”, Abraxas responded. 

“Good. I have an understanding that you are in a relationship with Anastasia. Naturally, when two people are in such position they share parts of their private lives with each other. Considering that the two of you have been involved for almost a year, I suppose you are aware of her upbringing, her parents’ background and etc.?” Tom perched his full brow at the platinum blonde who remained silent, still staring down at the hands on his lap. 

“I’m sorry, my Lord. I don’t know much, just that her parents attended Beauxbatons.”

“That is very strange indeed, Malfoy”, Riddle hissed, “considering that Beaxbatons is an all girls school, I don’t think her father would’ve been able to attend.”

Abraxas was in shock, taken aback by this statement. Although he knew this himself, he never payed much attention to Anastasia’s declaration. Regret filled him up to the brim and he was at a loss of words. His eyes darted back and forth between his fingers and he cursed himself mentally for his ignorance. _I should’ve know better! I should’ve noticed this myself! Now he will perform the Cruciatus Curse and there’s no going back from that._   
He remembered Finnigan Avery, or the boy he once was. When Finnigan was once unable to answer Tom’s question, their Lord performed the curse on him. The boy trashed violently on the floor for what seemed like half an hour, screaming and crying for mercy. Tom held a book in his other hand and read it until he ceased to hear Avery’s howling. The boy had been mute ever since, unresponsive to others and always perched over a book or hidden in the depths of his room.   
Abraxas squeezed his eyes shut and waited for the ‘Crucio’ to fall from Tom’s lips but it never did. 

“Absolutely useless. You will find out everything about her in the following two weeks. I want to know every single little detail, Malfoy. This is important and I am not kidding with you right now! You will question her, her friends, her teachers, even your father and his friends at the Ministry if you have to! If I am not satisfied, I will seek that satisfaction elsewhere, in the sound of your screeching while I gouge out your eyes perhaps.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Don't forget to comment and leave kudos if you enjoyed :)


	7. Finally.

She lay in the sinister silence that dawned in her room. Her head was gently resting on her pillow, while she stared right ahead, tracing the pattern of the wardrobe for what seemed like the thousandth time. Her blankets weighed heavily on her still irritated skin, but gave her the right amount of protection from the cold air coming from her window. Abraxas had left it open when he came by to see her but, due to his quick escape, forgot to close it. She was too uncomfortable and in pain to get up and do the task herself.   
She started remembering their conversation, the way his eyes became glossy and heavy as he spoke. His hands kept on reaching out to her, but she tugged hers away and winced and furrowed brows at the pain that this induced. “Please don’t do this”, he said, “I know we can work it out.” But she just shook her head, quite annoyed frankly, and refused to give in. When Malfoy decided to visit her, she was delighted to have the company she longed for so much. As she was excused from her classes for the next two weeks, the only time she saw her friends was right before dinner time, leaving her without any basic human interaction for a number of hours. Her food was brought to her by a shy little House Elf, which refused to talk to her, no matter her attempts. Whenever Anastasia tried, he would curl his ears in a downwards spiral, tuck his skinny arms under himself and would skip out of the room. Thus, naturally, when her boyfriend stopped by during his lunch break she was excited. However, that sentiment was quickly replaced when he opened his mouth. 

Anastasia never fully enjoyed Abraxas’ company. Though he was charming and, as far as she knew, loved her deeply, his manner of speaking was never something she appreciated. She could blame it on his family, their idealistic pureblood ideas and hopes. She could also blame it on his group of friends, who, too, were only pureblood Slytherin boys, who all, with the exception of Riddle, praised him. Being part of the Sacred Twenty Eight and the heir of the Malfoy name, would explain that. Maybe those two aspects of his life made him who he was; a snobbish and spoiled boy, who lacked a mind of his own, always driven by the opinions of others.   
Today was honestly the last drop for her and she finally gave up her plan of dating him until the end of school, when he would probably be pushed into an arranged marriage. She sensed something was off about him from the moment he came in and his eyes locked with hers before tearing his gaze away. He started fidgeting with his fingers while he approached the bed and sat on its corner. He gave her a weak smile, never looking at her directly. In a few short moments after the conventional awkward small talk, the interrogation began. 

“You said your father went to Beauxbatons”, his mind trailed off remembering Tom’s harsh words at this statement. “Anastasia, that’s an all-girls school. Why would you lie?”

She must’ve mistaken his nervousness for another one of his judgemental talks he would so often give to other people. Did he think of her as an inferior, now that he’s finally figured this out? That both her parents didn’t go do a prestigious school, as they were supposed to, by his standards. _Well him thinking at least one went is good enough for me. I’ve taken good care of concealed my Muggle origin all these years and he’s not about to ruin it now._ The thought enraged her and in seconds she was yelling defensive insults at him. She wasn’t surprised at the statement, as many people have told her this, since her arrival at Hogwarts. She would always just brush it off saying, “Oh well, that what they told me. I must’ve misheard.” One thing lead to another and her anger at his strange behaviour grew, clouding her judgement until a ‘we’re done’ finally escaped her lips. 

Her face flushed in annoyance at the recollection of this experience, which brought heat throughout her body. Despite her pain she flipped over her pillow in one swift motion, wanting to lay on the cold surface of the side that was facing down. Just as she sighed in relief, a few quiet knocks resonated on her door before Olivia came in. The girl was dressed in her green school robes and her tie was hanging on her shoulders, undone. She wore a bright smile, which seemed to fall for a split second as she saw Anastasia’s frustrated facial expression. Olivia glided over to the bed and sat at Anastasia’s feet, plopping down her books on the floor, as to not accidentally touch the girl.

“You seem in a cheery mood”, she joked. 

“I really am, aren’t I?”, she replied with sarcasm hitting every note in her voice. 

“Well I’m here to change that”, Olivia smiled. “So, what have you been up to all day?”

Anastasia chuckled and rolled her eyes, while lightly shaking her head. Her friend beamed at her in response and reached over her to pull the pillow Anastasia wasn’t using into her laps. She ran her hand over it, smoothing down the fingerprints she just created in the silky fabric. She lay the pillow in the space on the bed where Anastasia’s feet couldn’t reach. 

“You know I’ve been so worried about you. I don’t understand why Madame Lavardis let you out so early”, she spoke after setting her head on the pillow, looking up at the ceiling with her amber eyes. 

“She said I’m okay”, Anastasia rose her shoulders in dismissal.

“You’re obviously not! They have you cooped in this room all day long by yourself. You’re bored out of your mind and don’t try to deny it.”

“I’m not denying it obviously… but you know”, she paused, “it is what it is. Apparently I have abnormal healing capabilities, so there was no point in me staying at the hospital. Besides, it’s my own fault I’m bored. They said I can’t practice magic for now because it might trigger the same reaction it did last time. I’ve already caught up with all my classes a month in advance before I even got injured, so here I am… doing absolutely nothing.”

“Abnormal healing capabilities?”, Olivia rose her eyebrow in question. 

“Yeah, apparently all my deep wounds closed up overnight, which they should’ve have. It should’ve taken at least a week, as the Healer said. Anyways, they kept me there for those extra five days just for observation.”

“Well look on the bright side, you get a month of doing absolutely no homework!” 

The girls laughed, until both of them let out a long sigh which turned into silence. 

“You know Tom’s been worried about you?” 

Anastasia’s eyes grew big involuntarily and her heartbeat quickened. She hadn’t seen Tom in almost a week and was thankful for this. The memories of their last occurrence flooded her brain and she cringed. She remembered the way he looked at her, the same look predators give to their preys in the last moments before attacking. She remembered the way his hand wrapped around her neck and his thumb dug into her cheek. Her body was set on fire by this gesture, though now she knew the cruel intent behind it. She remembered the embarrassment she experience as she saw flashes of her dream before her eyes, knowing Tom was seeing them too. However that time the dream was different. That time her emotions while watching it were intensified simply by the mere fact that she could feel him, feel his hand tighten its grip when he realised who she was fantasising about. She could smell his strong smell of sandalwood invade her nostrils as she tried pacing her breathing, despite her racing heart. 

“What do you mean?”, she said a little bit too loud. 

“Well”, Olivia tore her eyes away from the ceiling and looked at Anastasia, “he’s been asking about you. Been trying to visit you in the hospital but Dumbledore didn’t allow it.”

“Questions?” 

“Yeah, mostly about your parents, where they lived, their names and etc. He said he wanted to owl them and apologise personally, explaining what happened.”

Anastasia didn’t reply but her mouth formed a little ‘o’ shape. Her instant reaction to this information was pleasant. She couldn’t believe that the cold and distant Tom Riddle cared enough about her to go through all of that. The thought warmed her heart and she smiled to herself, not wanting to let go of that simple fact. _Maybe he isn’t so bad after all._ However, at this conclusion alarms started to ring inside her mind. _Something is wrong, this is Tom we’re talking about here. Why would he care…_

_______________________________________________________________________________________  
Although her teachers were strictly against this, that night Anastasia decided to go to the Quidditch field and try her magic out. She got out of bed, deciding to stay in her silk pyjamas that didn’t irritate her skin that much, and threw on her robes. The material seemed weighty on her sensitive shoulders but she ignored it. She quickly slipped passed the common room, which was now dark as everyone had already gone to sleep. Her body moved through the open door and into the dark and damp corridors of the dungeons. Her footsteps echoed on the walls as she walked and she winced with every move. She kept reassuring herself that it was paranoia and everything she did only seemed loud, because she was doing something she wasn’t supposed to. 

Once Anastasia was standing on the green grass, her nerves were calmed down by the fresh air around her. She breathed in and enjoyed the quiet of the night, while taking her wand out of the pocket of her robes slowly. When the long piece of wood was fully uncovered and secure in her limp hand, she started having doubts. _I shouldn’t do this,_ she thought. _If they said not to practice, there must’ve been a valid reason for this. If I can’t remember how exactly I got the burns, it doesn’t mean that there isn’t a possibility that it won’t happen again. Maybe this time it will be so bad that I will remember it. Maybe this time I will get injured so badly, that I’ll be in the hospital for two weeks instead of in my room._   
But then she remembered the amazing feeling she got, when Dumbledore and Slughorn told her that her magic was what caused the burns. She couldn’t believe that it was even possible, she didn’t think she had any magic in her. However, it seemed that she had so much of it stored up over the years that it decided to all break loose on that very night. 

Excitement crept up her body and she smiled widely. She had to do this, had to prove it to herself. Anastasia was too curious and too obsessed to let this go and wait so many days to try this. She knew she’d spend every minute in her room for the next two weeks wondering and repeating ‘what if’s in her mind. She had spent so many years on this very same Quidditch field, full of unjustified hope that one day she might succeed and finally feel complete.   
Despite the unbudging fear that was hoarded in the back of her brain, she rose her wand up to her chest narrowing her eyes slightly at the discomfort she felt in the crease of her bent elbow. You have to do this and you have to do it now. _It’s finally time._

She extended her arm in front of her and pointed at the golden leaves scattered on the ground. Anastasia decided to perform the same spell Tom was teaching her that night. She remembered examining his movements in amazement as the pads rose up in the air. His white wand was hugged by his long fingers, guiding them up confidently. She had never seen a wand like Tom’s in her entire life. Students, teachers and herself included were equipped with brown or black pieces of wood, which ranged in shape, thickness and length. He however, possessed an ivory wand, with a big handle that slimmed down as it continued. The wood wasn’t slick or glossy like hers was, but it was rough and covered in holes of various sizes. It looked a lot like a bone, as though the amber skin was stripped off, leaving only the core. _It suits him,_ she thought. _It looks like what it’s meant to be. A wand. Nothing more, nothing less. Just a wand, created with the sole purpose of serving him and not looking shiny or pretty._

“Wingardium Leviosa”, she spoke. Her fingertips felt a slight tingle, which procured a surprised yelp from her. She nearly dropped her wand if she had not seen a slight movement in the leaves. With wide eyes, she repositioned herself and drew her lips in a tight line. 

“Wingardium Leviosa.”

She kept her focus this time and surely enough the leaves floated up into the air in a spiral, just like Tom’s had. A massive swell of excitement bubbled inside her chest as she let her hand fall to her side. She let out a squeak and jumped up and down, until realising the pain it inflicted on her body. Anastasia now stood still with a wild spark in her eyes, which searched the field quickly. She noticed a pine cone laying a few feet away from where she was. _I might as well._

“Accio pine cone.” 

The little ball flew into her other hand, which she held open, and landed harshly into her palm. 

“I guess you don’t need my tutoring anymore,” she heard his the voice behind her. It sent shivers up her spine and she had to suppress the urge to turn around.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Don't forget to leave comments and kudos if you enjoyed ;)


	8. The Other Book of Revelations.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for the reads and votes, guys!

Abraxas’ body was bent over the table in an agonising angle. He held his eagle-feathered quill tightly in his left hand and traced neat words onto the parchment. It had been a day since Tom summoned him in the Room of Requirements and Malfoy took no time in writing to his father. He looked down on the paper, which was now filled with ink and read over it. 

He felt silly for asking his father for such a strange favour… Extracting the records of his fellow classmate and girlfriend, though his father was unaware of this, and her parents. It was putting Malfoy Senior’s credibility and reliability on the line, however Abaraxas had no other choice. He knew what would happen to him if he came back to Tom empty handed. His Lord would inflict such pain on him, that the platinum-haired boy would likely not recover. He cringed at his own cowardice, unable to change this. He feared Tom, more than anyone could assume, as did his friends, the Knights of Walpurgis. It all started with admiration, being completely mesmerised by the way Riddle was able to do magic. The way he flicked his wand in a careless motion and great things would happen.  
At first, it was a pretty sight to watch. Tom’s magic would pick up the golden leaves around them and form a sort of blanket over them. Abraxas still remembered the first time this happened, they were both in their third year and entered the Forbidden Forest for their first lesson of Care of Magical Creatures. Professor Kettleburn had stepped away to fetch the basket of hedgehogs in which the students had to find the knarl. In that moment Malfoy heard Tom whisper, “watch” and in seconds the two boys were enveloped by a golden wave of leaves. Abraxas smiled as he looked around their cozy cocoon, before fixing his eyes on Riddle who had a satisfied smirk painted on his face. 

Soon afterwards though their ‘gang’ was formed. It was an exhilarating feeling at first, knowing that you are part of something so exclusive and so secret. The boys would meet, wearing silver masks on special occasions, calling themselves Knights, enjoying each other’s company. They were the kings in this castle, knowing secret passageways Tom would show them, sneaking past curfew to explore the grounds, finding themselves in the Forbidden Forest more often as Ridde continued to show them the extents of his magic as well as the wonderful creatures that lurked behind the trees. But then however, Abraxas saw the switch in their Lord’s behaviour. His spells became even more foreign the boys, but Malfoy somehow felt and understood of their dark origin. The administration everyone had for Tom was replaced by a violent fear. Fear that the spell he used to kill that little blue bird on a Sunday afternoon, would be used on them at some point. Fear that the screams of a squirrel under the Cruciatus Curse would soon be their own. And they were, they were Avery’s. 

Malfoy sighed and started blowing softly on the parchment in his hand. He wanted the ink to dry completely, before placing the letter in the envelope. He knew the discontent his father would feel if he were to open it and find a messy sheet with illegible words. The fact that he was asking for a favour was more than he would usually allow himself, the least he would do was write a coherent and nice letter. 

Abraxas’s father was a good man, despite the rumours surrounding him. He never showed his feelings in public, repeating that it could be interpreted as weakness. _My love for you is greater than the whole wide ocean, my boy. The press however, doesn’t need to know this,_ he would tell him when little Abraxas was confused why he couldn’t hold his dad’s hand when they made public appearances. They were two simple sentences, but they warmed the boy’s heart. They comforted him in lonely moments when his father would be away for Christmas holidays for business, when he was studying alone in the library to keep up with his peers’ grades even though he never managed too, and even when he was in the Room of Requirements in meetings, scared for his wellbeing, scared for life. 

_______________________________________________________________________________________

Tom was leaning his back against the hard wood of the chair, the surface digging under his shoulder blades. His long legs were stretched out in front of him, while he rested his hands on his stomach. He was looking up at the high ceiling of the library, letting himself go, knowing that students had class while he had a free period. He hadn’t been attending his Defence Against the Darks Arts lessons in almost two weeks, due to his usual tradition of always staying ahead of syllabus and assignments. Though he never requested to leave lessons before, this time he asked Professor Merrythought if he would be able to take some time off. She didn’t protest as he had explained to her that he needed the free time to study for his upcoming OWLs. Of course in reality, Tom was already more than prepared and these two hours would be used in order to continue his search for the entrance to the Chamber of Secrets. 

His thoughts however were for once distracted. He couldn’t seem to get Anastasia off his mind in almost a week. The girl just came out of the Infirmary, and Tom still couldn’t figure out what the hell happened to them that night. He searched for answers in the library but always failed to discover anything. She remained a mystery to him, which made his hate for her grow with each day he stayed clueless. Tom didn’t like mysteries, didn’t like anything which was unknown. 

_That awful girl,_ he thought, _making me go mad. How dare she? Who even is she? What is so special about her that I can’t seem to get her out of my head? I’ve never been so close to achieving my goal, I’ve never been so close to the start of my journey for power. The Chamber was going to be my tool in creating the first Horcrux._ Tom rolled his eyes and threw his hand up to rub his eyes with the soft pillows of his palms. _How can I be able to figure out not only what a Horcrux is but also how to make it, and yet somehow I can’t figure out what happened with the stupid girl._

He knew that he needed to start his own investigation and not wait around for Malfoy. Though he trusted that the boy’s fear would drive him to find some valuable information Riddle could use, he also recognised that Malfoy was not that smart. More precisely Abraxas seemed to be lacking the knowledge Tom needed in order to understand this whole situation fully. After all, Anastasia’s body exploded with magic, so no matter what her family’s past reveals, the explanation for this occurrence should be in a book.  
Tom couldn’t hide his surprise when he learned of the superficial nature of the relationship between Malfoy and Inferis. Logically, the length of their relationship suggested that they enjoyed each other’s company and shared parts of themselves with the other person. However, when questioning Malfoy he understood, that though maybe he reveals some personal stuff to Anastasia, she did not reciprocate this. Furthemore, Tom, being Tom, knew more than just this. He knew that the two never engaged in any sexual relationship with each other, which rendered the whole union absolutely absurd to him. Malfoy was under the illusion that he was in love and kept waiting for her to be ready, but of course he went to satisfy his needs elsewhere in secret, most commonly in the bedroom of Druella Rosier. Tom smiled at this thought. _She seems to have her fantasies fixated on someone else too._

A feeling sprang in his chest and he clutched at it through his robes. He hadn’t thought of the dream in that much detail, so used to the countless scenarios girls seemed to include him in. But now that he started remembering the details, his hands between her legs, her chest pressing into his stomach, the intensity with which he bucked his hips into hers, the emotions in him started to build. It was just like when they first met in the train and then again when they were in the Great Hall during the Sorting Ceremony. He felt that same tug on his heart and breathed in a heavy groan, as he tried to fight through the pain. It was as though metal chains were wrapped around the organ and it started beating faster, in fear of stopping and dying. The thudding was the only sound Tom could hear, the pain all that he could feel and the metallic taste of blood from biting his own lip, in order to suppress whimpers, was all that he could taste. He closed his eyes, furrowed his brows and started to inhale and exhale rhythmically. 

_Maybe this is just a panic attack._

Suddenly he felt her scent invaded his nostrils. A mixture of roses, violets and unrecognisable flowers, citrus and sandalwood. It wasn’t strong like other girls’ perfumes usually were, it was nice to smell, not overpowering but rather intoxicating. Tom smelt it in her room for the first time, when he walked in to fetch her for their tutoring session. He felt drawn to it, mesmerised by its rich and delicate odour. _It’s like a fucking narcotic,_ he thought as he opened his eyes. There was no one around him, and Tom seemed to be a bit disappointed by this discovery. Though the scent wasn’t strong anymore, he could still smell it. However, it seemed to become less prominent by the second. 

Riddle abruptly rose to his feet, determined to find the source of it, determined to confront Anastasia. However, as he turned a corner and smelt the essence at its strongest yet, he found it empty. The perfume kept guiding him by his nostrils and soon he stood in front of a tall bookshelf. It towered over Tom in an ominous manner and he felt an involuntary shiver run up his spine. His eyes started to search the shelves, and landed on brown book, whose leather spine seemed to glow golden and call out to him. The boy’s fingers went confidently to grab it and bring the title to face him. 

_The Essential Enochian Grimoire._

He brought up the object to his nose, and confirmed his theory. This book smelled of her, it seemed to be dripping in her aroma even. _She must’ve been reading this recently, maybe her friends bring her books while she’s on bed rest._

As Tom was about to put the grimoire back on its ledge, the tome seemed to slip through his fingers. The loud noise startled him but he bent down quickly to pick it up. His behind was resting on the balls of his feet, as he crouched over it. It was open now, falling face down. The boy flipped it over to close it, however stopped in his tracks as the pages revealed themselves to him.  
An image of an angelic being looked at him. It was wrapped in a golden saint light, its arms were outstretched in line with its shoulders, its eyes shone a white blinding colour.  
Although it was only a drawing, only an illustration, Tom felt the intensity of the magic on his skin. The very familiar vibrations drew out the flashbacks of that night in his brain and he lost all ability to speak or think. 

_It’s her._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Don't forget to leave kudos and comments if you enjoyed :)


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